The Heir's Secret Bride

Before Maeve could process her thoughts, Byron's icy voice cut rough. "Wait until we're actually divorced before you meddle in our marriage." Maeve's heart skipped a beat at his words.

Byron didn't spare Valda another glance as he carried Macve to the car and ordered the driver to leave.

Valda watched helplessly as the car sped away, frustration written all over her face. She didn't know much about cars, but it was clear this one was far from ordinary-probably something only the wealthy could afford. She figured the driver was just a colleague of Byron's, showing off by borrowing the boss's car for a dramatic exit. Once they were in the the car. Byron settled Maeve into the seat beside him, then straightened up and took his own seat my mother's words

if

Maeve her tone steady as she regained her composure. She and added cautiously, "No matter is, if a driver, an honest living deserves respect," Byron glanced at her, his face unreadable but his curiosity piqued. He wondered. If I weren't the CEO of the Mcdaniel Group, would she have gone to all this trouble to marry me? Would she still be putting on this act now? How long can she keep up the pretense? So, you're saying you'd stick with me even if life go was clear she had overthought things-he was just a driver, after all Byron asked, his f his tone casual.

It

She nodded firmly, "I "I won't regret my decision, and I have I

I married you of my own free will."

this. Maeve felt a surprising wave of relief. have no intention of getting a voice they faced some rough patches. it was her choice. With a little extra effort, their future didn't have to look so bleak.

Even in

She wanted to make it clear that her mother's words didn't reflect her own fe skillfully sidestepping the real issue. If that's the way it was, he didn't mind playing along, indulging in this little "poor man's game."

Byron lowered his gaze, a faint, unreadable smile playing at his lips. She was

When Maeve woke up, she found herself in the bedroom of the Pinehurst Apartments. She must have fallen asleep in the car, and Byron had carried her inside.

Her throat was still parched and sore, and her lips were chapped from dehydration. The moment she moved, her stomach- rumbled loudly, a hungry protest. Clutching her belly, Maeve pushed aside the blanket and tried to get out of bed But Maeve had underestimated her condition. As soon as her feet hit the floor, her vision blurred, and she collapsed, unable to steady herself. The glass of water by the bed shattered on the floor with a loud crash.

As cold sweat beaded on her forehead, she reached for the shards, only to have a strong hand firmly grip her arm.

Byron had somehow appeared in the bedroom without her noticing. "What are you doing?" Byron asked, his brow furrowed, making his already stern expression seem even more distant.

Maeve froze. Tjust wanted to get some water from the living room, but I knocked over the glass by accident..."

"Why didn't you call me?" Byron cased her back onto the bed, his tone indifferent. "If you're not feeling well, just stay put."

"Fine... Sorry, Maeve murmured, her voice soft and apologetic.

Byron tidied up the shattered glass and set a fresh glass of water on the bedside table. "Anything else you need?"

Maeve hesitated before speaking "I could use something to eat just a simple plate of spaghetti would be fine. There should be ingredients in the fridge. But, do you actually know how to cook?"

She eyed him with a blend of curiosity and skepticism, he didn't exactly seem like the type who would know his way around.

kitchen.

Byron's face stayed impassive. "Spaghetti, got it. I'll be right back

Just as he was about to leave, Maeve called after him, "Wait! I haven't had a chance to wash up in two days. Could you help me to the bathroom?"

Byron turned back, his gaze cool and indifferent. "You can't even stand. Are you seriously asking me to watch you bathe?"

Macve's face instantly flushed crimson. "N-No! That's not what I meant!" She waved her hands frantically, her voice a mix of embarrassment and urgency, "I just need to rinse my mouth and wash my face-nothing more!" How did How he even think that

that? I wouldn't ask for something like that, even if I had a thick skin!" she thought.

Byron glanced at her flushed checks, then grabbed her with one hand and pulled her out of bed. "Just lean on me, but don't get too close," he said flatly, his disdain evident.

Maeve fumed silently. 'It's been just two days without a bath-does he really need to act this disgusted?

Though clearly annoyed, she quickly rinsed her mouth and washed her face. Struggling to keep her balance, she leaned against the sink and used one hand to clean up.

Water splashed onto her shirt collar, revealing a sliver of skin that Byron's gaze caught in the mirror. He quickly looked away and asked casually, "So, why did your parents lock you up?"

We had a bit of a f falling out," Maeve replied vaguely, drying her face with a towel.

Byron

had a good idea of what was up but didn't bother to dig. Instead, he asked, "So, why didn't you hit me up again after I missed your call the other day?"

She hesitated, a droplet of water trailing down a stray strand of hair at her cheek. The memory of the woman's voice on the phone replayed in her mind.

She glanced at Byron's reflection in the mirror, her words catching in her throat. Admitting she'd been hoping for his call felt too awkward, and the idea of bothering him made her uneasy. After all, they weren't close enough for her to call him on a whim "I forgot." Maeve said with a small, casual smile. "I didn't expect my parents to keep me locked up for so long."

Her earlier resistance toward them had now turned into a deep sense of disheartenment. Despite her efforts to stay upbeat, a trace of loneliness flickered across her face.

Her smile, tinged with a hint of sadness, made Byron feel oddly unsettled. He frowned, swallowed hard, and asked, "Are you

done?"

"Yes," Maeve replied. "Could you help me back to bed now?"

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